Further to my post in November concerning the Irish Saint and Welsh hermit, St Govan, Brigit at St Conleth's Catholic Heritage Association sent me an email and poem on this little known saint:
"When I was on holiday in Wales a couple of years ago I came across this poem to Saint Govan:"
'St Govan St Govan, he built him a cell By the side of the Pembroke sea, And there, as the crannied sea-gulls dwell, In a tiny, secret citadel He sighed for eternity.
St Govan, he built him a cell Between the wild sky and the sea, Where the sunsets redden the rolling swell And brooding splendour has thrown her spell On valley and moorland lea.
St Govan still lies in his cell But his soul, long since is free, And one may wonder - and who can tell-
If good St Govan likes Heaven as well As his cell by that sounding sea?'
A. G. Prys-Jones in D.M. and E. M. Lloyd, eds., A Book of Wales (Collins)
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| St Govan (Gavin) of Ireland and of Wales |
"When I was on holiday in Wales a couple of years ago I came across this poem to Saint Govan:"
'St Govan St Govan, he built him a cell By the side of the Pembroke sea, And there, as the crannied sea-gulls dwell, In a tiny, secret citadel He sighed for eternity.
St Govan, he built him a cell Between the wild sky and the sea, Where the sunsets redden the rolling swell And brooding splendour has thrown her spell On valley and moorland lea.
St Govan still lies in his cell But his soul, long since is free, And one may wonder - and who can tell-
If good St Govan likes Heaven as well As his cell by that sounding sea?'
A. G. Prys-Jones in D.M. and E. M. Lloyd, eds., A Book of Wales (Collins)
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